


Sweet Dream

by Calli



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Dream Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 11:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19018816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calli/pseuds/Calli
Summary: A purely self-indulgent follow up to "A Favor".  Griffith thought he'd been left alone, but finds himself with unexpected company.Non-con, bondage, it's all a dream.





	Sweet Dream

Griffith became aware suddenly. He was pinned. His arms bound above his head on the bed, someone large sitting on his stomach. He opened his eyes only to find blackness. Blindfold. His mouth was stuffed with a cloth, and tied in as a gag. 

He froze, certain his movements had been detected by his captor, yet still hoping to not incite any further bondage. Being forced to breathe only through his nose could easily become a more dangerous situation. He took control of his breathing, slow and steady. 

A soft touch on his cheek made him flinch. Fingertips, likely. The touch caressed his cheek and twisted under his chin, lifting it slightly. It stayed there for a moment, then slid down his neck. Fingertips it was, because the hand cupped the side of his neck, a thumb caressing his Adam's apple. Then slowly and almost gingerly, the large rough hand moved to close around his throat. There was a gentle squeeze, something that might have been considered play if it had been consensual, but the grip sent an icy chill down Griffith's spine.

_If I survive_ , he thought, _I will kill this man. I will hunt him to the ends of the earth and crush him like an insect._

Griffith trembled. Whether it was rage or fear, he could not tell. 

The hand released his throat, and moved down to slowly caress down his chest to just above his stomach, and then the touch was gone.

Griffith rolled his head slightly and started making noise. He knew he wouldn't be able to make enough sound to attract a guard, but there was always the small chance his captor would want to hear him speak.

The weight on his stomach lifted, and he could feel the bed shifting as the man climbed off him. 

That same gentle yet firm grip ensnared his ankles and began to spread his legs. At this Griffith fought, but in vain. He struggled, writhing on the bed, trying to loosen the man's grip, or to kick him, or anything. Fury fueled him and he roared behind his gag, but it was like fighting against a statue. The grip never tightened, but it never slipped. 

_I will kill you, I will KILL you,_ he raged in his head. 

“You know, you're really pretty when you struggle like that.”  
Guts.

Griffith froze instantly in shock, back still arched off the bed, supported by Gut's grip on his ankles. 

“MMMMMMFFFFFMFMFMFFF” he screamed through his gag. Guts? It couldn't be. But ..it was. Griffith couldn't think, everything was spinning. Guts?

Guts placed Griffith's ankles so that his feet were planted on the mattress right near his ass. Griffith collapsed with the motion, his breath uncontrollable and ragged.

“I think we left something unfinished,” Guts said. Guts hands slid up Griffith's legs to his knees, and applied pressure. “Looks like you agree.” 

Griffith moaned against the gag again, painfully aware of his exposure. To be naked was no big thing, but to have his erection, now throbbing and twitching at the attention, laid out for someone's viewing pleasure. Guts. It was Guts? Another shock ran down his spine, but this one wasn't fear. He made a pleading mewling sound, pulling against the ropes around his wrists.

“If you promise to be a good boy, I'll take the gag out.”

Griffith stopped pulling and nodded immediately. It was tactical, having the gag out would only improve his situation. 

“Hmm, why don't I believe you?” Guts let go of Griffith's knees and leaned down over the slender man. Griffith could feel Guts' breath against his face, smell the scent of him, sweat and ale and Guts. He could feel the heat of the body that hovered above his, not touching him, only radiating that warmth. 

Guts leaned down to speak softly into Griffith's ear. “You know how beautiful you are. You could have anyone you want. Yet, here we are. Did you think I was stupid? But I was wrong, back then. Our duel. It wasn't my ass you were after, was it?”

There was a pause, and Griffith trembled, his body yearning to arch upwards to touch the heat, press himself against it. He fought it. 

“It was my _cock_.”

Griffith made a choking sound and twisted his head away. 

“Looks like I was right.”

Guts sat back for a moment, then he removed the gag, loosening the strap of cloth that held the cloth that had been stuffed in his mouth in place. Griffith spit it out as swiftly as he could, and Guts laughed pleasantly. As if this were just a silly moment between friends.

“Guts....! What do you think you're doing? This is insane, untie me at once!” he demanded.

“No. You've been too stressed out. And if you won't do anything about it, then it's my duty to see you properly taken care of.”

“WHAT?” Griffith gasped, but was cut off by Guts as he grabbed Griffith's head and kissed him deeply.  
Griffith melted. It was over. Guts had won. How... how had he..? The taste of Guts' mouth, the smell of him, the way he moved, caressing Griffith's tongue with his own. Griffith had no defenses against them.

Guts pulled away, and Griffith strained his head up to continue the kiss. Guts chuckled. “You always did talk to much. That's how you're supposed to use your mouth in battle.”

“Guts... why? Why are you doing this?” Griffith moaned. 

“I already told you.” The weight on the bed shifted, and Griffith could hear his drawer being opened and the sounds of someone rifling through his possessions. He smelled the oil as soon as it was unstoppered. Griffith trembled. He felt as if he were a piece of cat-gut, strung tightly on a violin, waiting desperately for the bow to brush against him. He felt trapped and weak and free, at last. 

All thoughts disappeared when Guts' well oiled hand gripped his cock. 

Griffith cried out softly as he involuntarily thrust up into Guts' firm grasp, desperate. Guts slowly coated him with the oil, then in a rather utilitarian fashion, began stroking Griffith with long slow pulls.

It had never been like this for Griffith before. Never against his will, never with someone he actually wanted. How cruel to have both at once. Never had he been so impossibly aroused that he not only lost the ability to fight, but also the ability to think. He was too lost in sensations to notice how his blindfold was now wet with tears. He was too drunk on desire to care.

Griffith's moans were decidedly lustful this time, as he struggled, not to escape, but to go faster, harder. 

Guts let go. Griffith cried out at the loss, struggling to lift his hips further upward, but Guts had taken Griffith's ankles again, and this time used them to tuck Griffith's legs up along his sides, leaving him completely exposed. Guts was looking at him. Guts was looking at him like that. Guts. Why... why couldn't he see? He needed to see the look on Guts' face, to see what was there in the other man. He needed to see lust in Guts' eyes, to know this wasn't just a service being performed. 

“Guts, please,” he moaned.

“Please what?” Guts asked conversationally, as he dripped oil over Griffith's testicles and down the cleft of his ass. 

“AAAAaaaaa!” Griffith gasped at the shock of the sudden sensation.

“Well, that's not very helpful. You're going to have to be more specific than that.”

Warm hands caressed his testicles gently, smoothing the oil around, and sliding down his perineum to slick up his ass. 

“Damn, you are a fucking slut, aren't you?” Guts said as Griffith struggled to pull his legs closer, to give Guts better access. “How long have you wanted this? Were you hoping I would sneak into your tent late at night, and pin you down and have my way with you?” 

His finger pressed. 

“Griffith, you're going to have to let me in.”

This was it. This was the moment that broke him. This was the moment that destroyed all that was Griffith and left nothing but his desire for Guts. It was the moment he had to actively choose to participate, and he was completely helpless to resist. 

Guts' finger slipped in with ease. 

“There's a good boy.”

Griffith moaned as Guts worked his finger, quickly adding another. He stroked his fingers upwards, and Griffith saw stars. He thought he heard someone cry out. Was that him? 

Once more, Guts stroked his prostate, then pulled out his fingers. Griffith sobbed at the loss. 

“Impatient much?”

Then Griffith felt it. He knew that feeling, the feeling of the tip of a cock pressing against his ass as it was being lined up to penetrate him. His legs quivered, and Guts pushed forward, slowly. Yes, yes, yes, yes, FINALLY. 

“Goddamn, you're really fucking tight, you know that?” Griffith's reply was unintelligible. Slowly, Guts pulled back, and Griffith immediately twisted his legs around Gut's torso holding him in. He heard a small laugh, and then Guts drove himself into Griffith with force.

“You're gonna wake the whole goddamn castle.”

Griffith was aware that there was a hand over his mouth, but didn't know why. He licked at the fingers, trying to draw them into his mouth. 

“Finally using that mouth of yours right,” Guts said, slipping two of his fingers into Griffith's mouth for him to suck and lick as Guts pounded into his ass. 

The fingers slipped out of Griffith's mouth and he whined quietly, but Guts ran his hands down Griffith's sides, to grasp him firmly by the hips. He lifted Griffith's ass, Griffith's legs still clinging to him, so that he could adjust himself to get the right angle. Satisfied, Guts drove Griffith's hips down as he thrust upwards almost violently, burying his cock completely. 

Griffith made a gurgling sound. He tugged fruitlessly against the ropes that held his wrists. Not to escape this time, but for the desperate desire to grab Guts, to cling to him in any way possible. Guts thrust again, and Griffith was lost.

Guts slowly increased his pace, wringing more and more sounds out of Griffith as he pounded him. 

“Fuck, Griffith. We should have done this years ago.”

Griffith made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, but then Guts' thick cock slid against his prostate and he was lost again.

Griffith was panting heavily, a sheen of sweat glistened on his pale flesh. His silver hair stuck to his face, and his skin almost glowed with the heat of his blush.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Guts said, a hint of awe in his voice. “Now, let's see you come. Are you going to come for me, Griffith?” 

Yes, oh a million times, yes. Finally, relief, absolution. He had been so wrong. This was the only thing that mattered. This was his dream.

He screamed his orgasm as the semen leaked copiously from his throbbing, twitching cock. Guts was still moving in him, slow small motions that only extended the moment of his climax. Guts milked the last bit of semen out of Griffith with slow firm strokes, until Griffith collapsed shuddering beneath him. 

Guts waited until Griffith stopped gasping for air. When he was satisfied the other man had calmed enough, he pulled Griffith's legs up over his shoulders and started pounding into him again, a more frenetic and erratic pace this time. 

Guts groaned loudly and let himself fall over Griffith as he came, burying his face in the other man's neck.

They stayed like that for a moment. Guts trying to catch his breath, Griffith completely immobilized by the large man on top of him. 

Then reluctantly, Guts lifted himself off Griffith, and slowly slid out of him. Griffith moaned, and his legs shook.

“Better?” Guts asked. 

Griffith moaned again and then spoke, his voice ragged. “Guts, please... the blindfold?” 

“Of course,” Guts replied.

Griffith felt Guts untie the blindfold and lift it from his face. Griffith's eyes were still closed, and he fluttered them open desperate to see the expression on Guts' face.

Only, it wasn't Guts looking down at him from between his legs.

It was Lord Gennon.

~~~

Griffith gasped and sat up, heart pounding, only to find himself alone in his bedchamber. Soaked in sweat and come, he trembled. A dream. Of course.

His laughter had a hint of madness in it.


End file.
